


Playing Favourites

by KynesPeace



Series: War is Over [1]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Confused Jonathan, Description of an injury, Dorothy is alive, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Frottage, Geoffrey is human, Jonathan and Elizabeth are friends, Jonathan did not embrace anyone, Lisa the Plant, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mutual Masturbation, Swansea is a vampire, emotional Geoffrey, half realistic description of a wound, handjobs, in terms of in game time, kinda slow burn, medical treatment, takes place after the events of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KynesPeace/pseuds/KynesPeace
Summary: The Guard of Priwen was a gang of vampire hunters, sworn to rid the earth of any undead blood drinker. With one exception: Dr. Jonathan Reid, who had somehow gained the leader’s favour since the incident at the hospital, in which the vampire had spared the hunter’s life. Not every member of the Guard, however, is liking this newfound truce between the two should-be enemies. Disputes arise and the Guard is compelled to split up. Without the help of the Guard’s medics, Geoffrey’s closest men are forced to come to Jonathan for help as their leader grows sick after an injury.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Series: War is Over [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098443
Comments: 15
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my best friend who has not only beta-ed this work (I loved your comments!), but also introduced me to this wonderful game in the first place. This couldn't have been written without you.

“God protect us, you’ve got a leech in the hospital?”

“Yes, _my_ hospital! My mission is to heal. While you go about warring.”

“You’ve set the table for a snake and wonder why there’s venom in your food.”

Jonathan remembered fairly well his first encounter with the vampire hunter. How he had stood in Swansea’s office, when Jonathan had still felt disturbed by his earlier meeting with his maker. How McCullum had stared at him, or no, had glanced at him; that was all it had taken for him to expose the doctor as a vampire. 

Jonathan looked into the mirror in his room at the Pembroke, just a few rooms away from where he had met the hunter that day. The doctor thought he could hide his … condition from other people well, at least no human ever gave him any indication that they might have noticed something was off with him. His eyes were lighter than any human’s, of course, and his veins always shone out a little bit more than was normal for a human being, but he never detected any uneasiness directed at him when speaking to a citizen or patient. But he couldn’t fool someone who was intimately familiar with his kind.

Their first encounter was laden with aversion and disgust. It was obvious the men felt strong antipathy for each other. After all, Swansea had thought they would tear each other’s throats out right on the spot when Jonathan refused to let the vampire hunter leave. Jonathan rememberd how it took every ounce of willpower to step aside; thinking about it now he didn’t even know why he reacted this hostilely. He usually didn’t let another person get under his skin this easily, but the way he looked at him, judged him by just one glance, exposed Jonathan’s most delicate secret in no more than a second – it just made him boil inside. 

And then when McCullum had ambushed him in the theatre. Jonathan didn’t know for how long McCullum had watched him that day, perhaps he had witnessed the whole fight with Doris Fletcher or maybe he had only seen her last few moments in which she spectacularly ended her life on stage. Jonathan still shuddered when he remembered the stench of her burning flesh, especially her deformed arm. Of course, in the war he had witnessed worse, but his sensory memories faded in the light of his new abilities. He perceived everything much stronger now, which sometimes, as he had learned, was more of a curse than a gift. Jonathan felt like prey that day, being watched from the gallery, even though McCullum let him go, naturally not without a half-hearted death threat. 

Their relationship, if Jonathan could call it that, worsened after that. He couldn’t blame McCullum for suspecting him of being part of the vampire epidemic. It certainly was suspicious that a powerful vampire such as him would emerge out of nowhere when so many new vampires would pop up everywhere in London. But Jonathan could not understand how McCullum never once took into consideration that maybe he was just trying to solve the problem that was haunting the city, too. After all, Jonathan always tried to stick to the shadows and not kill his men when it wasn’t necessary, and he never touched any one of them for their blood – at least never out of a fight. No, in reality, Mary was the only human Jonathan ever killed for his thirst, but McCullum hadn’t gotten off his back as Jonathan tried to save the city just as the Guard tried, too. For them, it wasn’t enough that Jonathan worked in the hospital and saved lives without even once falling to his hunger. 

When the Guard of Priwen had broken into Pembroke and abducted his colleague, Jonathan had decided it was enough. He could tolerate their hostility against him, but he would not have them threatening his hospital. When he had held Geoffrey’s jaw in his hand after he had defeated him … for a second he wasn’t sure what he’d do with him. While Jonathan had tried to dodge McCullum’s attacks, trying to stay out of the artificial but still very burning light, the hunter hadn’t held anything back. If it wasn’t for Jonathan’s fast healing abilities, he would still be feeling the cuts McCullum left on him that day. McCullum had certainly looked beaten too, Jonathan had managed to get in some punches and hits too; he had defeated him after all. 

When he had held his chin in his hands, he couldn’t keep himself from measuring the injuries he had inflicted on him. The nose hadn’t been broken, even if it looked like it, he had several haematomas and Jonathan wasn’t sure if that one rib was just bruised or if it was fractured. His pride was broken, obviously, as McCullum couldn’t believe that Jonathan really wanted to spare his life. His threats, even though in an angry tone, hadn’t sounded very convincing. McCullum posed more the threat of a kicked puppy when he left him there in the attic and called after him that he’d kill him the next chance he got. Jonathan smiled to himself, sitting and working on his workbench in the Pembroke now. He’s still alive – more or less, but that wasn’t the hunter’s fault –, so McCullum’s death threats were as well carried out as predicted. 

While the doctor worked on cleaning his pistol, he couldn’t help but think about the last time he saw the hunter in the cemetery. Even before that, since their fight at Pembroke, to be precise, Jonathan had noticed something was off with the Guard of Priwen. Usually, the Guard battled the feral Skals at making it hard for Jonathan to cross the district borders of the city, but somehow, he had found less Guards attacking him in the dark of the night after his fight with McCullum. This is not to say that there were less Guardsmen of Priwen around, if at all, their numbers increased steadily and the patrols were almost doubled since Jonathan’s rebirth, but they were either more concerned with the feral Skals that littered the streets or didn’t pay as much mind anymore to the side streets Jonathan preferred to use. He’d found it strange at that time, but he hadn’t thought about it much as he had been occupied with more pressing matters.

Jonathan had gottan an idea, however, when he had found Geoffrey fighting a few Skals and a werewolf in the cemetery. After defeating them together, their talk had been a little too easy, friendly even. And it hadn’t been just because Geoffrey had been absolutely exhausted, if he was honest, Jonathan wouldn’t have been surprised if Geoffrey would have just dropped dead on the spot. Luckily, he hadn’t and gave Jonathan the blood of King Arthur he had asked for. And that he had done without any objections. No, Jonathan almost couldn’t believe this was the same person that fought him at Pembroke. McCullum had defeatedly admitted that he would have wanted to help Jonathan in his mission to end the “Disaster”, if he hadn’t been so unsuited for it. Jonathan did see his chance that day; if he wanted to finally get on the hunter’s friendly side, he had to use his calm and tired mood to his advantage. So they talked and Jonathan learned why McCullum detested vampires so much. He couldn’t blame him after what he heard. Somehow Jonathan knew since their first encounter that this was a personal fight for McCullum, he didn’t hunt Jonathan and his kind because it was job, but because he completely and wholeheartedly believed in it. It must have been a shock to the vampire hunter that Jonathan really wasn’t as evil as he imagined him to be, and Jonathan saw the effects of it in that cemetery. Whatever it was that finally convinced McCullum of Jonathan’s not so evil nature – Jonathan couldn’t stop thinking about it since that day.  
It gave Jonathan hope that maybe they would manage to amend their little dispute. He thought about all the possibilities if they would start to work together instead of hindering the other in fighting the same enemy. 

However, their relationship had changed since that time. When Jonathan had spared McCullum and then after the hunter had learned that Jonathan wanted to end the vampire epidemic just as much as he did – Jonathan hadn’t heard of McCullum since then. Few weeks had passed since Jonathan had defeated the Red Queen and saved London, and probably all of England and maybe even more, and he hadn’t once crossed McCullum’s path. The Guard certainly hadn’t left London since there was still a lot of tidying up to do in the streets. Jonathan himself tried to lessen the city of feral vampires as often as he could, but there was another wave of flu outbreaks in the last few days and his help was needed in the hospital. 

This night, the situation seemed to be steady, it was shortly before sunset and no nurse has come up to ask him to come down, which usually happened when the situation required his help. The nurses did not ask any questions; after all, most of them had to cover unusual shifts to work against the epidemic. It did raise some questioning eyebrows when all of a sudden Dr. Swansea, the director of the hospital, also declared he would only take night shifts, but their human colleagues were all the happier they didn’t have to jump into the less desired nightly workings. Most often it was just Edgar, Jonathan, and one or two other doctors who worked at night while the others rested to take on the day shifts. Swansea also worked on plans to adjust the hospital to vampiric doctors so that they could at least do some operations at day again. The Influenza was still a problem, but at least injuries due to vampiric influence ceased to be a problem and it was time to take on the more usual operations again. People still had broken limbs or other ordinary injuries. 

Jonathan liked to get up a few hours before sunset to have some time for himself before work required his attention. To check his equipment – should he find the time to leave the hospital – and to work on some new medications. After sunrise he usually felt too exhausted to do much more. Even undead, exhaustion didn’t stay absent. Jonathan had investigated the issue before he faced the Red Queen and it turned out his condition wasn’t normal for a vampire. If he would take an innocent’s life from time to time, he wouldn’t require blood for some weeks and still feel vital every night. Now he had to hunt almost every night just to function – and hunting meant dozens of rats or some feral Skals that only managed to sate his thirst for so long. He disliked the Ascalon Club, but sometimes he just wanted to know what it was like to not feel the constant hunger after blood. He only distantly remembered what it felt like when he took his sister’s life, he was newly born into this life, had no idea what he was, and he had been on the run from the Guard – he had no idea what his thirst meant back then. But with time he learned to control it, to keep his thoughts clear while he tended to his patients. Doing surgery was no problem as long as he didn’t have to talk much and could avoid breathing for the majority of the procedure. He didn’t turn savage when he smelled blood, as a powerful Ekon he had more control over himself than that, but it certainly wasn’t nice. But that was his job and even in his current condition he would not abandon his patients. 

The vampire eyed his pistol one last time and considered it clean enough when he heard the church bells heralding the evening. Time to leave his room and tend to his patients. He put the pistol away into one of the drawers underneath his workbench – he would hardly have any use of it in the hospital – and put on his heavy white cloak. Since the end of the vampire epidemic, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t start to blend in more with the other staff members. While he had still been out there hunting for the cause of the epidemic, the white coat had been too prominent and since he had spent most of his time outside of the hospital, he had worn his darker coat with which he could blend in easily with the shadows. For tonight he didn’t plan on going out, had drained some Skals last night already, so he had no need to leave the hospital. 

Jonathan was just walking down the corridor when Swansea approached him, obviously irritated. Jonathan braced himself for any upcoming complaints the newly born vampire might throw at him. Usually, the head of the hospital was in a good mood and talked Jonathan’s ear off because of some discoveries he made about his new state. It was almost endearing how Swansea could delight in the smallest findings, but Edgar’s distressed state told Jonathan he would have to figure out the solution to whatever the problem was. Nothing new, then. 

“Jonathan! Do you have any idea why the Guard of Priwen loiters around the hospital?” 

Jonathan raised one eyebrow. “I just left my office, Edgar. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Swansea went to one of the windows that were usually drawn shut by heavy curtains to minimalize the risk of any sunlight peeping through. He gestured wildly to the shadows of the street and even without his heightened senses Jonathan could detect the two members of the Guard easily. It wasn’t just their military style of clothing, their whole appearance set them off from any other citizen. They always covered their backsides, turning around and to the side every so often, never exposing themselves to any imminent danger. One of them, Jonathan detected, was very young, eighteen at most. The other was older than Jonathan and he believed he remembered this one, he had been there at Doris’ theatre with McCullum. They lingered around the tents that were still up outside even though they were no longer occupied by patients as Jonathan had cared for a better usage of the ground floor’s rooms. They almost doubled the beds inside and carried all the junk to the attic. 

“I was just downstairs; some patients are perturbed because of our dear friends here.”

“Have you talked to them? Asked what they want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They want to get rid of us!”

Jonathan looked at them one more time, then fully turned to his colleague. “If they wanted that, they wouldn’t show themselves like this. Maybe they are in need of our help?”

“Hah!”, Swansea all but spat out. “Did you forget that they tortured and almost killed me?” 

Jonathan again raised his eyebrow. He usually tried to avoid that topic. Jonathan still didn’t know if he regretted the decision to turn Swansea and he didn’t like to be reminded of the choice he had to take. He had been outraged when he found out that the epidemic had been Swansea’s fault; indirectly he was responsible for Jonathan’s condition, too, but he refrained from wandering to that thought.

The Guard must have been informed on Swansea’s change of condition; after all, they did know what state they left him in. But they never tried to openly approach the hospital. Whether they scouted it, Jonathan could not say, but he doubted McCullum let two vampires run one of the last remaining hospitals in the city without making sure there was no imminent danger to the patients.

“I did not forget it, Edgar. But I doubt they are trying to threaten us, sending two guards would almost be an insult, don’t you think?” 

Swansea tried to smile for Jonathan, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Whatever’s their cause, they need to leave. Could you handle that, since you are friends with their leader?”

“McCullum and I are hardly friends.”

“Please, Jonathan?”

Jonathan sighed, then straightened his posture again and nodded. “Alright.”

“Perfect, thank you. Don’t worry about starting later, I don’t think we need extra help tonight anyway, the day shift already covered most duties.”

Jonathan nodded again and made his way down to the ground floor, where he greeted the nurses who began their shift an hour ago. It was cold and dark outside, not that Jonathan minded, he didn’t really feel the cold anymore, but he did prefer London when it didn’t rain, as was the case tonight. Outside he waited a few minutes right by the gate of the hospital for the guards to approach him. Leaning against the cold stone he felt a craving he hadn’t had for a long while. Or better; he remembered what it felt like to crave a cigarette. Jonathan hadn’t smoked one since becoming a vampire, but in the army, he had done so regularly. He didn’t know if his new state would repeal the effects of a cigarette, but he decided he should try sometime.

“Are you Dr. Reid?”

“Are you dumb? Of course it’s him.”

Jonathan turned his head to the side from where the men had finally decided to confront him. It didn’t surprise him that the younger man spoke up without the older man’s approval, he did look a little excited. 

“I’m sorry for the lad’s crudeness. I’m Pearson and that boy goes by the name of Wright.”

“Good evening. It seems I do not have to introduce myself anymore.”

Jonathan noticed Pearson swallow; he was obviously not very comfortable in the vampire’s presence. Jonathan didn’t want to make it any harder for him, so he did his best to look as harmless as possible. “What can I do for you gentlemen? Are you in need of medical help?”

Jonathan had checked already, of course. He knew the men lacked nothing and were perfectly healthy, apart from a little exhaustion. But who wasn’t in need of some good sleep these days?

Pearson shook his head. “It’s not us, we came for someone else.”

Jonathan had an idea where this was going. It was obvious they needed his help, otherwise they wouldn’t have used his name.

“Our leader, McCullum, he’s … he’s not well. He’s turned feverish recently and we don’t know what else to do.”

Absentmindedly Jonathan straightened his back at hearing that name. “What happened?”

“We don’t know, he just turned up after one night out, he went out alone, was a wonder he made it back at all, had a gaping wound all over his hip and stomach but didn’t tell us how he got it. Probably was one of them leeches.” Pearson only noticed that his description was an insult they usually also directed at the doctor they’ve just asked for help, but Jonathan dismissed him as he made a move to excuse himself. The situation had to be serious when the Guard not only called him by his name but felt sorry for calling him a leech. 

“Why didn’t you bring him with you?”

“He’s become delirious, doesn’t notice much around him anymore.”

“What?” That did unsettle Jonathan. That man was a strong fighter, Jonathan had first-hand experience in McCullum’s fighting skills, whatever it was that managed to get close to him to wound him severely, it must have been powerful or attacked the hunter while he had been distracted. “Why didn’t you come here earlier?”

Pearson shrugged. “He’s been out of it since this morning.”

“I understand. Since when is he injured?” 

The younger man, Wright, spoke up this time. “Tuesday, he stumbled into me when I just wanted to call it a day.”

So McCullum had been suffering on that wound for three days now. That wasn’t extraordinary long, but Jonathan couldn’t say more until he saw the wound himself. At least the time suggested that McCullum wasn’t turning, so he hadn’t gotten infected with vampire blood. 

“And what about your medics?” Jonathan knew the Guard had medical staff. 

“They’re with the others.”

“Jacob, would you shut it? This is Guard’s business!” 

Wright slumped into himself and avoided the older man’s gaze, but Jonathan naturally wanted to know what was going on. Since coming back to London after looking for Lady Ashbury he hadn’t had much time to watch the Guard’s affairs.

“This is of no importance to you. Will you help us?”

Of course he would, but they didn’t have to know that this fast. “You have tried to kill me hundreds of times, and you did fatally wound my colleague. What reason do I have to trust you? How do I know you won’t lure me into a trap?”

Pearson sighed, if Jonathan hadn’t already known they were honest about McCullum, he would know now. The man tried to hide it, but Jonathan could feel his anxiety, saw how heavy his heart was with insecurity. He must be a close friend of McCullum’s. He gave in almost too easily.

“If you must know it, we had a disagreement in the Guard. Some didn’t like how leniently McCullum was treating you, so we had to split temporarily. Wright, me, and few others followed McCullum, but most chickened out and stayed, so we don’t really have any medic at the moment. Do you now understand why we came to you?” 

Jonathan nodded. Time was of the essence and they’ve wasted too much of that already. All other questions needed be asked later. “Yes. Give me a few minutes to get my medical supplies.” 

Pearson immediately relaxed a little bit and nodded. “We will wait here.”

With moderate and calculated steps Jonathan turned around and entered the hospital where he immediately ran into Swansea who had obviously been waiting for the news Jonathan was bringing. “What do they want?”

“They need our help. One of them is injured and has developed a fever. I am just getting some supplies to accompany them.”

“And you are sure this isn’t a fraud?”

“I am. They seem sincerely distressed.”

“Ah, so it is McCullum who is in need of our help. What a turn of events.”

Jonathan could feel the cynical undertone in Swansea’s assertion. 

“It is our duty to help those in need. And he did give me the blood of Arthur.” Jonathan didn’t voice his thoughts, that this might be another step in sorting out their former enmity. 

“I understand. Then go and help them keep their leader alive, it would be nice to have them owe us. I will cover for your shift.”

Jonathan nodded. He didn’t need Swansea’s approval to go, but it was definitely a lot more companionable like this. “Thank you, Edgar.”

* * *

With his leather suitcase and in his usual coat, he joined the two men in front of Pembroke’s gate. He had packed for every possibility of sickness, but thanks to his enhanced strength, it was no problem to carry everything in one hand. The men led him north, not to West End where the main hideout of the Guard, the theatre, was. Jonathan didn’t know much about the inner workings of the Guard, how loyal they were to their leader and how loyal to their main goal, to eradicate every vampire roaming the earth. He wondered what had happened that they split up like this, if McCullum had been replaced by someone else. This, the doctor concluded, would be a bad turn of events, if someone more “fanatic”, as Edgar liked to call McCullum, took his place at the top of the Guard. 

“Dr. Reid? We have to put on a blindfold on you now. No offense, but we can’t take any risks, since we’re in a delicate situation.” They were in Whitechapel now, not far from the cemetery. Most of the buildings here were abandoned as the Skal epidemic and the Influenza had grazed this part of the city most severely. The townspeople began to repair the ruins, but the nights were still dangerous; if it wasn’t some remaining Skals, there were still desperate people that made the darkness unsafe. London was still deep in a crisis and it would take much more time until the poorest parts of the town could breathe easily again. 

Jonathan knew it wouldn’t do anything if they took away his eyesight. His other senses were so sharp, he could tell by the smell in which part precisely they would be, but if it eased their nerves, he wouldn’t mind. “No offense taken.”

He lets the boy put a piece of cloth over his eyes; he was taller than Pearson, so Jonathan didn’t have to bend down that much. Due to his enhanced hearing, Jonathan could tell where they were going, that Pearson was one metre ahead of them while Wright directed Jonathan with a hand on his back. Fifty metres ahead, one turn to the left, then they skipped one alley (which Jonathan could tell because he knew the streets here by heart), took a turn right etc. It didn’t take Jonathan long to recognise they were trying to divert his memory, they crossed one point twice until they led him to where they were actually going. It was pointless, Jonathan could picture every wooden plank of the three-storey building that he has walked by a dozen times as they climbed the stairs to the apartment. He knew exactly which building they were entering. 

After the door closed behind him, Wright took the blindfold off of Jonathan’s eyes. It took considerably less time for Jonathan to adjust to the dimly lit room, which was a bit lighter for his eyes than the thick blindfold, but still dark enough that his vampiric senses took over and illuminated the dark spots of the room for him. There was no electric light, only candles. There was almost no electricity in Whitechapel to begin with, and even if there was, the former owners of this house had been too poor to afford it. He didn’t mind, as a being of the night he could see perfectly well and could perform a surgery even in total darkness. 

They were in the kitchen and living area of the apartment. There was a staircase in one corner, Jonathan could sense there were three people in the room above them, one of them McCullum. He could hear his heartbeat, it was strained, but still strong. Another two men were in this room and outside he already registered one guard keeping watch on the entrance. They were all exhausted and even without his abilities he could sense that they were heavy hearted. No wonder, Jonathan thought, if this was all that remained of those loyal to McCullum. The two men that sat on an old, worn out couch nodded to Pearson and Wright, then, a little more hesitant, to Jonathan who greeted them likewise. He recognised their faces. So this was McCullum’s closest circle of the Guard of Priwen.

They went upstairs and even though the door was closed, Jonathan could detect the scent of old and new blood that had soaked through bandages. The two men sprang to their feet as Pearson opened the door, Wright had stayed downstairs. 

“How is he?”, Pearson asked. 

The one who had sat on a chair right next to the bed before standing up, probably the one who had the most medical knowledge, answered him. 

“No change, sir. He took some sips of that water, but he’s been out of it for two hours.”

Jonathan could hear Pearson crunch with his teeth and that was followed by a short pause in which nobody really knew what else to do. Everyone knew who Jonathan was, there was really no need of any introduction and the situation was too serious to bother with that. That was why Jonathan approached the bed without further ado and put his suitcase on the empty chair. The men were hesitant, but everyone knew Jonathan’s help was necessary. They wouldn’t have sought him out if there had been another option. 

“Was he conscious when you gave him the water? Could he understand what you were saying?”, Jonathan asked as he lifted the counterpane from McCullum’s unconscious form. He didn’t wear a shirt, only the bandages, or rather the cloths that they put on top of the wound. The vampire hunter was in a fever and Jonathan was certain that his wound was inflamed, he could smell it before he lifted the damp cloth. McCullum’s face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat but his overall state didn’t seem very alarming to the experienced doctor. 

“Not really, doctor. We had to hold him up and force it in.”

Jonathan nodded. He gently lifted the cloth and felt that it had already stuck a little bit to the moist wound. McCullum reacted with a groan of pain, but he didn’t seem to regain consciousness soon again. That was probably for the best, Jonathan thought, as he observed the wound. It was stitched together, and actually pretty good at that, but the wound was a little bloated, in an angry red tone and damp with exudate and what Jonathan recognized as pus. It was a nasty wound, but not life threatening, all Jonathan had to do was open the stitches, let out the fluids, cut out any necrotic flesh, clean the wound of any foreign substances – Jonathan suspected something had gotten into the cut – and stitch it up again. Good thing was that he also packed some concoctions; to reduce the fever and reduce the risk of further infections, he would give McCullum some medicine. In the war, he had to do this all the time, even after hours of surgery. He could basically do it in his sleep. The only thing that unsettled Jonathan was the wound itself. He had seen Skal wounds caused by their sharp claws. They could slice through skin like thin daggers, but this was just one cut, going some millimetres deep. He wasn’t just grazed by whatever cut him, so it was highly unlikely a Skal or even another Ekon got to him, as he’d have more than one cut from their claws. It looked more like a wound inflicted by a blade, so that didn’t completely rule out the Ekon-theory, but from a fight with a vampire he would have shown more smaller cuts. McCullum was completely unharmed; Jonathan couldn’t detect any other cuts from a recent fight. There were many older wounds and, unsurprisingly, much scarred skin. 

But only McCullum could tell them what happened, and he wasn’t available for that at the moment. 

“I’ll have to open the wound and clean it.”

“Do you need assistance?” 

“No, it’s a routinely procedure, all I need is clean water.”

Jonathan began to rummage around in his suitcase for the medicine he needed, one syringe to sedate the area around the wound and one against the fever.

* * *

Only two men had stayed in the room while Jonathan had worked on cleaning the wound. As he had suspected, the wound had been contaminated, but all that would hinder the healing process had been taken out and Jonathan had just finished stitching it up again. He was thankful that Atkinson, the man who had before Jonathan tended to McCullum’s wound, had done a good job so that Jonathan could suture the skin without any tearing. Finishing his work up, Jonathan put some balm onto the reddened skin and covered it with a fresh wound dressing. McCullum had stayed unconscious; his fever was constant, and Jonathan had asked Atkinson to get a cold and damp cloth to put over McCullum’s forehead while the medicine worked on the rest. 

The vampire hunter who was usually so in control of every situation looked so vulnerable now. Jonathan was a doctor, he wasn’t a stranger to seeing usually strong people hurt and in a vulnerable position, there were many times where he had to save the lives of high-ranking officers in the war, but still it felt strange to have McCullum in this state here now. Even when Jonathan beat McCullum at Pembroke, he still had enough in him to yell at the doctor and threaten him, even after obvious defeat. 

Jonathan cleaned his hands and noticed from the corner of his eyes that Atkinson and Pearson peeked over at McCullum. “He will probably get better in the next ten hours, but chance is still at fifty percent that his fever rises up again.”

The men looked at each other, then back at Jonathan, waiting for him to go on. 

“I have sometimes had cases like this one in which the fever decreased after a few hours and then rose back up and became critical.” He paused to watch the information sink in. “I think it is for the best if I stay here for the day. I would rather have him at Pembroke but he’s not yet in any condition to be moved.”

McCullum wasn’t a small man and they had no vehicle to move him to the hospital; Milton was out this night in another part of the city, as Jonathan had heard the night before. Jonathan wasn’t needed in the hospital anyway and he couldn’t do much at daytime either. 

There was a pause, but it was their best option. Jonathan knew how fast a person’s condition could worsen and he couldn’t come back here at day. It was obvious he couldn’t entrust any medical treatment with the men here, Atkinson could work with a needle and thread, but that was as far as his knowledge would go, as it had shown. 

At last, Pearson agreed, and arrangements were made. “Tell Dr. Swansea that I will be staying the night and day. He probably won’t believe you haven’t gotten rid of me so tell him … tell him to take care of Lisa, he’ll know what it means.” Jonathan also made them a list of things he might need in a worst-case scenario. Edgar knew his handwriting, if a mention of Jonathan’s plant wasn’t enough, he would recognise his notes. The men sent off their youngest two boys, the streets were relatively clean if they stuck to the main roads, Jonathan doubted they would run into any trouble they couldn’t handle. 

Pearson and Atkinson were visibly uncomfortable with hosting a vampire at their hideout for the whole night and day, but it was obvious that Jonathan was harmless to them; after all, he was in a much more delicate situation with very capable members of the Guard in one apartment with him. They settled on letting Jonathan stay in the room with McCullum, so that the men could occupy the room downstairs. They left the door open, Jonathan guessed it was so that they could hear when Jonathan tried anything. They even, awkwardly, asked him if he needed something to drink. Jonathan couldn’t believe that he was in this situation now, in an enclosed space with the men that had sworn to eradicate the earth of beings like Jonathan, asking him if he needed to sate his hunger. 

Jonathan didn’t need a comfortable armchair but he was still thankful there was one next to the wooden chairs the men had brought up from downstairs. He settled into it and watched McCullum. Now, without his men roaming around him, Jonathan could freely use his senses on him. In his mind’s eye, Jonathan could see the entirety of McCullum’s blood vessels, his pulse was a little rapid, but his temperature was very slowly starting to drop. His breath was evening out as he drifted deeper into his slumber again. McCullum’s hair that was usually so tidy and neatly trimmed at the sides and back – just as was fashion these days – had grown out a little bit. His scruff, too, hadn’t been groomed for some more days than usual and due to the confinement in bed, the longer hair stuck out sideways. He looked more human, Jonathan thought, which was ridiculous; the vampire could tell a human apart from every other being just by the heartbeat. But … the vampire hunter looked not as menacing, not as solemn, and some of the wrinkles in his face had flattened as he slept soundly thanks to medicine. Probably as careless as he hadn’t in weeks or perhaps even months. He mused some more while looking at the sleeping man, then averted his gaze. It was impolite to make use of McCullum’s defenceless position. 

Jonathan couldn’t look out the window, it had been shut with wooden planks even before his arrival, probably to keep any light from alerting anyone – or anything. At least it would also keep the light out once the sun started to rise. Jonathan wondered how long it would take for the hunter to wake up. Perhaps one part of him so willingly offered to stay here because he hoped to get some information about what had happened in the Guard, and also what had happened to McCullum. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that both cases were connected. But he could brood all he wanted; he would need to wait for the hunter to regain consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, this is my present for you all!   
> And thank you to my beta, I'm glad you enjoyed it, I hope the rest of you will, too!

In the end, the fever went down in the next few hours and didn’t rise up again. McCullum’s blood circulated regularly; Jonathan had kept watch on that and was relieved to see his heart pump blood constantly into every organ. Jonathan had checked, of course, that there was no internal bleeding and while he had stayed in his room for the last few hours, he had also concentrated on his ribs and other tissue. It wasn’t as easy as checking the blood system, but Jonathan found that he could also scan other inner body parts if he just concentrated enough – and if he wasn’t too starved, which was the case now. He detected two bruised ribs, one was older, perhaps even from their fight in the hospital. 

It took another few hours until McCullum stirred. Jonathan checked his pocket watch, it was shortly after eleven in the morning, so whatever McCullum’s reaction to seeing Jonathan would be, he would have to put up with him for some more hours. 

Some of his men had left the apartment for the day; what for, Jonathan knew not, but there were only two of them remaining. That was probably not enough to overpower Jonathan, so he concluded that they were busy with the Guard’s problems. But then again, Jonathan had no idea what the Guardsmen were normally up to if it wasn’t night, which was usually the only time he had contact with them. Jonathan felt reluctant to eavesdrop, even if he was interested in the Guard’s affairs, the latest developments between him and McCullum gave him feelings of guilt when he thought about breaking their trust. But it seemed the men were just as reluctant to talk about their more delicate affairs, and in the end, there wasn’t much to eavesdrop on. 

McCullum regained consciousness slowly. Jonathan picked his changed state up first by the quickening of his heartbeat. Only then did he start to move, which he hadn’t done for the whole time Jonathan had sat there. 

When McCullum started to wake, Jonathan decided to stay in his armchair opposite the room. He would startle the vampire hunter if he found the doctor looming over him, so he wanted to wait for him to recognise his presence on his own terms.

* * *

The first thing Geoffrey felt was a dull pain, but he couldn’t locate it. His head was throbbing and he felt a pulling ache in his stomach. But that was good, he reminded himself as he was getting control over his mind and body again. That meant he was still alive. 

It was almost dark when he opened his eyes, and he had absolutely no idea how long he had been out of it. He faintly remembered that he has been in this kind of state – meaning tied to a bed – for at least a day, maybe two. He let out a low groan of pain and tried to sit up, as he usually did when had just woken up. His body kind of did it out of reflex and he regretted it instantly, but his back was suddenly supported by something, no, by someone and he already made a move to turn around to face whoever was way too close for his liking, to assess the danger he felt he was in.

“No, don’t move, Geoffrey. You should take it easy.” 

The first thing that shocked Geoffrey so much that he was paralysed – and followed the voice’s command – _was_ the voice that he instantly recognised. The second thing was the use of his first name, even if it wasn’t the first time the doctor had used it. 

Geoffrey’s eyes needed a moment to adjust to the dimly lit room, which was illuminated only by some candles. 

“Dr. Reid, to what do I owe the honour?” Geoffrey noticed his throat was dry, his voice sounded and felt raspy.

* * *

Jonathan seldomly made use of his inhumanely fast abilities when it wasn’t necessary. He felt relatively safe using them in the dark of the night, but never if he had the feeling that someone might watch him. 

He didn’t even think about that when he quickly transported himself to Geoffrey’s side to keep him from losing his balance and falling backwards onto the bed.

Jonathan was a bit surprised that McCullum could address him in such a teasing tone – after all, Jonathan knew under what medication he put the vampire hunter hours before. But he should have known better, McCullum was tougher than that. Jonathan doubted the fever would have struck him down even without his help; he was way too stubborn for that. To be fair, not even a powerful Ekon such as himself had been able to kill him so far.

But in this moment, Jonathan was McCullum’s doctor, so he didn’t let himself be teased this easily. “Your men brought me here because your wound wasn’t improving, and you developed a fever. Do you feel any pain in your abdomen?” 

Jonathan helped Geoffrey get comfortable with a pillow behind his back, then carefully moved aside again. Normally, with any other patient, he would have taken the blanket away and checked the bandages for any fluids, but he was more careful with the hunter. He didn’t seem to mind Jonathan’s presence too much, so that was a good start. 

“Can’t say I do. I feel better than yesterday, I should probably thank you for that …?”

“No worries. That’s my job. May I?” Jonathan gestured towards the blanket that had fallen down a bit and exposed McCullum’s chest. Somehow, even with his professional concentration, it felt harder to look at the other man. Jonathan couldn’t place why, he guessed it was because of the ironic situation. A vampire treating a vampire hunter. 

McCullum nodded and raised one arm to rest under his head. “Please.”

Jonathan raised the counterpane and set his gaze to his patient’s stomach. He did notice, however, that McCullum watched him. Carefully, Jonathan lifted the bandages as well and was pleased to notice that the wound had stopped oozing. His sensible vampiric eyes also picked up that the flesh around the wound wasn’t as red as before, even if it was almost unnoticeable to a human’s eye. “It looks good. When your men brought me here, it was a little bloated and inflamed, but it’s already improving, and your temperature is only slightly elevated.” Jonathan put the white cloths back on top of the wound and rolled the blanket back over McCullum’s torso. “You can leave the bed as soon as you feel strong enough, but you should rest for at least a week.”

McCullum huffed, then made a sound that was almost a laugh, but resolved in a cough. Without McCullum needing to ask, Jonathan grabbed the cup of water and gave it to him. As McCullum was drinking, the two men from downstairs came up, alerted by the coughing, and joined them. Jonathan didn’t know them, had only seen their faces shortly when he entered the apartment the night before.

“Geoffrey, you’re awake! Finally”, one of them spoke up. 

McCullum tried to sit up a little bit more; Jonathan deduced that these men, even though they were obviously part of the closer circle, weren’t close enough for McCullum to relax around them. He tried to regain some of his authority back with sitting up straighter. So the higher ranking were taking care of stuff, while the lower ranking stayed back with their leader and the vampire. Jonathan didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult. 

“Yes, finally, where are the others?”

The men looked hesitantly at Jonathan, who had stepped away a little from McCullum but that was obviously not enough to give them enough privacy. He couldn’t leave the room at this time of the day, however, so they either had to talk freely in front of him or wait until night. Naturally, they choose the latter.

“Uh, dealing with the issues …”

“Very eloquent. Doctor, thank you for your kind help, I’ll make sure you get paid. I think your other patients might require your help as well, even though I feel very honoured that you spent your time here in this low housing.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t keep one corner of his mouth from moving upwards. “Then I am sorry to inform you, but I cannot leave this … housing … for another few hours.”

Geoffrey was confused at first, then looked at Jonathan’s vest, where his watch was in one of its pockets. “What time is it?”

“About eleven in the morning.”

“You stayed until morning?” McCullum seemed seriously astounded at understanding this. 

“There was serious risk that your fever would worsen again, and after dawn I wouldn’t have been able to come back here.”

Jonathan sensed that there were many questions on McCullum’s mind, but apparently the presence of his men kept him from voicing them or he wasn’t sure what to say. Whatever it was, McCullum chose not to comment.

Jonathan tried to make himself busy as the men discussed their concerns as ominously as they could. He was beginning to feel tired, but he would manage another night shift at Pembroke if he hunted before going there. The Guardsmen couldn’t discuss for long, as two others returned soon and McCullum was, after all, human and was exhausted shortly after. He fell asleep after he had eaten a little bit and remained that way until the sun finally started to set. 

Before leaving, Jonathan checked his vitals and the wound again and decided that his patient was out of risk. Downstairs, he told Pearson, who had returned last, just before sunset, that McCullum should come to get the wound checked in a week. Pearson only nodded at that; Jonathan didn’t sense any high hostility directed at him, but it was still obvious the man didn’t give away his trust freely. Jonathan didn’t doubt that Atkinson could remove the stitches, but he didn’t like giving away a patient. After all, Atkinson wouldn’t detect if anything was wrong. But Jonathan had made sure that McCullum would receive his message as he had put a note where McCullum would find it. 

Jonathan let two of them guide him away, blindfolded of course, and sated his hunger before returning to his shift at Pembroke.

* * *

It had been a week since Jonathan had treated McCullum. The hospital was working to full capacity, but so far, the situation seemed under control. It almost shocked Jonathan when he realized how neutral he was regarding the normal epidemic, the Influenza. But after the worst of the vampiric epidemic … Jonathan was almost glad the worst thing that happened to a patient was death and nothing after that. He still worked his hardest to keep as many from dying as possible.

He was just close to finishing his shift when he heard an uproar in the hospital’s lobby. A nurse, as it seemed, was trying to usher out an unwelcome guest. When the loud voices didn’t seem to die down on their own, Jonathan decided to check up on the situation. 

“What is going on here? This is a hospital, not a pub!”

Involved were, as Jonathan could hear walking down the corridor, a man and two nurses and the argument only grew louder as he approached with fast steps. 

The doctor was surprised to see the familiar face of a certain vampire hunter who stood there in front of the front desk behind which nurses Hawkins and Smith stood and were obviously agitated by the unwanted guest. 

McCullum seemed to be a bit relieved when he looked into Jonathan’s face and immediately turned towards him and away from the nurses. 

“Doctor! This thug refuses to leave, we don’t have any free beds, especially not for …”, nurse Smith – she usually worked daytime and Jonathan couldn’t remember her first name – said as she gestured wildly into McCullum’s direction. The situation seemed a bit ridiculous to Jonathan; as he took in McCullum’s stance, he couldn’t detect any thuggish demeanour. If anything, the picture McCullum made reminded Jonathan a lot of the image in his head of McCullum after Jonathan had defeated him in Pembroke’s attic. Like a kicked puppy. 

“Nurse Smith, this is a hospital, we do not turn away those in need of our help. I will take care of Mr. McCullum, don’t worry.” The nurses looked unsure at the two men in front of them, but it wasn’t their job to question a doctor’s decision and their shift was just ending, too, so they certainly didn’t mind that Jonathan took care of the situation. 

Jonathan looked at McCullum. The nurse was still right, they really had no bed left. “Follow me.”

They didn’t exchange a word as McCullum followed Jonathan upstairs to his office – that was really the only room Jonathan could think of. The only other unoccupied room was the operating theatre, and the nurses would never let Jonathan hear the end of it if he contaminated the table unnecessarily. In his own room, they would also have the privacy they’d probably need, and that was the only place in the hospital into which Swansea couldn’t just storm in. McCullum waited in the middle of the room as Jonathan closed the door behind them, and he wasn’t polite enough to wait with analysing every detail of Jonathan’s home. He looked around very freely and even though he didn’t walk up to or touched anything, Jonathan still felt a little uncomfortable that his things were processed so openly in front of him. McCullum was no ordinary patient – but Jonathan didn’t even know if he came here for that in the first place. 

“So this is how you live.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint if you expected a coffin.”

McCullum huffed a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Jonathan raised one eyebrow, playfully though, and made his way over to his little secret entrance and exit. The sun would rise in less than an hour and he didn’t like any early sunbeams to block his path to the door. That happened once and he wasn’t too keen on getting into that situation again. 

“So, McCullum, what can I do for you?”

McCullum was looking at a sketch of the human blood system that Jonathan made one day from memory. “You made this.” It wasn’t a question, so Jonathan didn’t comment on it. After all, it was rude not to answer a question.

“Do you see this when you look at one of us?” McCullum turned to Jonathan and the doctor couldn’t say that McCullum didn’t look honestly interested. 

“Shouldn’t the long-time leader of the Guard of Priwen know of a vampire’s skills?”

McCullum looked at the sketch again and shrugged. “I do know. I was just asking politely.”

It would be an understatement if Jonathan said he was just utterly confused by this man’s behaviour. 

“Well, anyway, I got your note, that’s why I came here. I’m not letting Atkinson get near my skin again.”

“Your man did a decent job. It wasn’t entirely his fault you developed an inflammation; you should have come here right away.”

Jonathan realised too late that this was a little too forward. He and McCullum weren’t exactly friends, or were they? At least not as much as McCullum was to his own men and he couldn’t blame him that he didn’t come to a hospital that was run by two vampires. 

“I’m here now. So, doctor, if you would be so kind and finish your treatment.”

Jonathan nodded. It was much easier to talk to McCullum professionally anyway. “Lay down on the bed, I’ll come to you right away.”

Jonathan made himself busy to get everything he needed to remove the stitches, then he cleaned his hands. He was still wearing his white hospital cloak and rolled up his sleeves as he usually did. He felt more hygienic that way. His skin he could clean with water and soap, his sleeves not so fast. 

When he turned around with the needed materials in his hand, McCullum had already made himself comfortable on his bed. It was an unfamiliar picture his room made, no other person had been in this bed besides him, if he was honest, almost no other person had been in his room, the only exception was Swansea. Not even his friend Elizabeth had visited him here once. He put the things on his bedside table and grabbed an old rug to put it on the end of the bed, McCullum had been kind enough to not put his dirty shoes on the white bedding. 

When McCullum had found a comfortable position, with his arm underneath his head and slightly elevated by Jonathan’s pillow, he pulled his shirt up with his other hand. He had already discarded his long coat when Jonathan had cleaned his hands. 

Jonathan took his chair from the workbench and sat down beside McCullum. He stopped, however, before looking at the wound. There was a bruise beginning to form just underneath his chest, McCullum had just revealed a tiny bit of the new forming haematoma, but Jonathan picked it up nevertheless, he sensed the accumulation of blood in that area. That hadn’t been there a week ago.

“I thought I told you to keep it down for some time.”

McCullum laughed in a mocking tone. “Oh, I’m sorry Dr. Reid, I didn’t know you could ground me. You know, even my mother, bless her soul, knew she would fall on deaf ears.”

Jonathan sighed, then turned to pick up his scissors and grabbed a small bowl to put it onto the mattress next to McCullum’s hip. “Good then that I am your doctor and not your mother.”

He felt a little smug when McCullum flinched at feeling the coldness of his hands on his stomach. “Oh, I’m sorry, my hands are a little cold.” Jonathan couldn’t hide his grin, but he worked professionally either way. He had only needed seven stitches and the wound had healed beautifully; it was easy to remove them with only little discomfort. He used a small cloth to apply some balm to help its healing process and stuck a wound dressing on top to keep the balm from rubbing off into McCullum’s shirt. 

“Your wound healed well, you won’t feel much of it in two weeks.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“You’re welcome, Geoffrey.”

Jonathan turned around to dispose of the used cloth, it wasn’t sterile enough anymore for fresh wounds but could still be used, so he put it into a basket with other laundry. The tin with the balm he put back into one of his cupboards and then proceeded to wash his hands. He sensed that McCullum had stood up and adjusted his clothing, but he made no move to leave yet. That was fine by Jonathan, he still hoped to become more familiar with McCullum, now that they’ve put aside their differences it would be profitable if they joined forces. And Jonathan hoped that the Guard had ancient manuscripts that would help him understand his condition and, more importantly, his friend’s condition. He could control his hunger fairly well, but Elizabeth was not so lucky. Whenever he found the time, he would go through Swansea’s archive but sadly there wasn’t that much in the hospital and the brotherhood wasn’t that amenable to Jonathan, especially not since they got wind of the kindling friendship between the surgeon and the Guard. 

Deeply in his thoughts, Jonathan didn’t notice that Geoffrey approached him. His own heart beat up, however, when he turned around, drying his hands on a towel and he found Geoffrey standing directly behind him. He sensed that Geoffrey’s heart rate had spiked up too and looked down to where his heart was. “Geoffrey, what-?”

Jonathan’s eyes were wide open when Geoffrey bent forward, eyes closing halfway, and pressed his lips on the doctor’s. Jonathan was so surprised that he didn’t move at all, didn’t breathe, no, he was convinced his heart stopped, too (if that wasn’t the only necessary thing for his body to continue to function). 

McCullum seemed more than surprised by his own action just after he pulled back. His eyebrows were raised up and he looked confused himself, then shocked, and he backed away as if it was Jonathan that had just invaded his privacy. 

“McCullum-”, Jonathan tried to make his voice sound soothing, as he did when dealing with a nervous patient. 

“Forget this happened.” In the blink of an eye – and Jonathan couldn’t yet place what side of McCullum he had just witnessed – the old McCullum was back. The one that lashed out when feeling pressured, like a wild animal in a too small cage. He glared at him but didn’t say anything else. He left a flustered Jonathan behind in his office when he stormed out of the room. Distantly, Jonathan could hear an agitated nurse yelling at him, but he couldn’t think about that now. Sadly, he couldn’t run after the vampire hunter or even look at him walking away from the hospital because the first sunrays were already up and making it impossible for a vampire to move around freely. 

Jonathan turned around again and washed his hot feeling face – he couldn’t remember the last time he felt warmth in his cheeks – with ice cold water and looked into the mirror above his sink. 

What had just happened?

* * *

Days later, Jonathan could still not really make sense of what had gotten into the vampire hunter when he had kissed him. He was curious, a feeling that was most familiar to the doctor. What had been going on in McCullum’s mind just before? Jonathan couldn’t pinpoint any moment before that which might have triggered this action. Sure, they had shared some friendly banter before that, but there hadn’t been anything remotely romantic about it when Jonathan had cared for his wound. Or at least Jonathan hadn’t seen it that way, but who knew what was going on in the hunter’s mind?

The man continued to wander around in Jonathan’s head, he needed answers, wanted to know what McCullum wanted and apart from that, Jonathan still didn’t know if he had yet managed to settle the Guard’s affairs or if he was still in hiding with his most loyal men. 

That was why he decided to search for the man that night. Swansea didn’t mind, there were still Skals roaming the night and Jonathan’s progeny didn’t much like dealing with those. So that was what Jonathan told him; that he’d go hunting. 

It wasn’t that far off from reality – crouching on a broken building with an open attic, he wiped his mouth off the Skal’s blood that he just drained. At the moment it still wasn’t that hard to find one of those lesser vampires to appease his thirst and even though he did want the streets of London to be safe again, he also worried about what beings he would turn to if there weren’t Skals around anymore. Animals were a possibility, but the city only had small creatures to offer of which he would need a lot. Maybe he’d need a country house in the future.

Whitechapel was quiet that night. Jonathan had seen some Guardsmen on his way to the poor district, but none of McCullum’s inner circle. He had already found out that the leader was in the northern part of the East End. The former nurse of Pembroke, Dorothy Crane, had told him after he had paid her a visit earlier that night when he gave her some medication and sterile instruments for her dispensary. Jonathan came to her weekly to help her out, she usually sent him a list of things needed and then he would do his best to detour some lesser needed materials from the hospital. If Swansea had noticed, he hadn’t said anything.

Judging by Dorothy’s complaints, the leader of the Guard had been sighted by her assistant Darius Petrescu. And according to him, McCullum had disappeared in this direction. Jonathan didn’t know, however, what the hunter was off to do. If he was trying to settle things with the Guard, it was less likely for Jonathan to find the man on the streets, but he doubted that. He wouldn’t be in Whitechapel then. 

He found him not half an hour later when Jonathan had followed the trail of a small group of Skals. Watching the fight from above, standing on a half-broken scaffolding, Jonathan doubted that the four Skals would have been a problem for a fit McCullum. But he didn’t look fit at all and Jonathan didn’t think it was because of the wound that he had treated. A quick glance at the hunter with his heightened vampiric senses told Jonathan that he shouldn’t hesitate much longer and step in. 

He disappeared from the wooden platform and reappeared just behind one Skal who was bleeding from his arm where McCullum had struck him. Jonathan wasn’t particularly hungry anymore, but biting an opponent still proved to be the best kind of attack. He didn’t know if McCullum had noticed his presence right away or after he had drained the Skal, but he didn’t seem to mind the extra help. No, McCullum turned his back towards Jonathan, meaning that he trusted him enough to cover him. It was no problem for the two experienced men to rid London of the three remaining beasts. 

“What are you doing here?” McCullum cleaned his sword on the dirty clothing of one of the dead Skals. He didn’t look at him, but Jonathan noticed in his voice that he was aggravated. He figured that he wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms – as a doctor he also knew a deal about human behaviour and aggression wasn’t uncommon when feeling insecure. It mattered not that Jonathan wasn’t to blame for the situation they were in; he was part of the problem, so McCullum’s anger was directed towards him. Jonathan was trained to deal with his.

“You’re welcome, Geoffrey.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.” 

“Many people I help do not ask for it.”

McCullum wanted to counter with something when the pair heard voices coming nearer. Human voices, speaking in loud commands. There was no mistaking that it was the Guard, but judging by McCullum’s alerted facial expression, it wasn’t that part of the Guard he was friendly with at the moment. 

“Quick! Hide!” McCullum grabbed Jonathan’s arm as the men seemed to turn around a corner that led right to where the pair stood and dragged him towards a building that was abandoned, as was every house in this area. The door was already off its hinges and only barely hung loosely in the doorframe. The two men had easy entry and were just out of sight when torches rounded the corner and became visible. The Guardsmen noticed the bodies and Jonathan could hear orders being barked at each other. 

“They are freshly dead, whoever did this is still nearby! Search every corner and hiding spot! And watch out, this one got bitten by a leech.”

Right next to him, Jonathan could hear McCullum growl deep in his chest. “We need to find a better hideout.”

Jonathan nodded and motioned towards a half-broken staircase. “Up there.”

McCullum furrowed his brow. “It’s broken, how am I supposed to get up there?” 

Jonathan could sense two of the Guardsmen already coming close to the building they were in. “Look, Harry, the door’s open in this one!” 

Jonathan smirked as he looked at McCullum and grabbed him around the waist. “What the hell do you-“ He stopped short when Jonathan transported both of them upwards to the top of the stairs. Jonathan steadied the other man; he remembered the first time he teleported with his abilities and it must be even worse for a human. “Be quiet.” McCullum heaved but understood that he mustn’t make a sound unless they wanted to be discovered. 

The men entered the house but as they found that no one was hiding there and that there was no way to get to the upper floor, they left. 

“Careless. I trained them better than that.”

“Well, for my part, I am happy they didn’t find us.”

McCullum huffed and stepped away from Jonathan, after the nausea of the jump had finally subsided and he could think more clearly again. 

“What in the hell did you do?”

“I saved you. And you are welcome, again.”

McCullum grunted and his face showed Jonathan clearly how much he hated being in this situation. He turned around to take a look at the room, maybe in an attempt to gain some control of the situation, to get more familiar with their surroundings because he felt trapped by Jonathan. Well, if Jonathan was honest with himself, McCullum would indeed have a serious problem if Jonathan was less friendly. 

“So, now that you have lured me into your lair, what do you want from me, leech?” 

“Ah, back at the pet name? And here I thought we were making progress.”

Jonathan could sense that McCullum’s heart rate was accelerated even though he knew the hunter was someone who could calm his heartbeat quickly after combat. Jonathan would have supposed it was because of the fear of getting caught or because of the teleportation, but he knew better. McCullum felt uneasy around him, which he hadn’t the few times they had met before. McCullum didn’t reply and waited for Jonathan to say something.

“I wanted to talk to you.” 

McCullum crossed his arms. “Then talk.” 

But then, Jonathan noticed the faint scent of blood, some of it was Skal blood – that was easy to discern from other blood because it reeked so much. It was enough to sate the hunger, but it certainly wasn’t savoury. Human blood came in different tastes – or scents, as far as Jonathan was concerned. A sick person’s blood smelled less sweet and overall less appetising than the blood of a healthy individual. And then there was McCullum’s blood, who was a very healthy man. Jonathan hadn’t noticed it last time he smelled it. When his blood system had been infected by inflammation it hadn’t smelt nice, and Jonathan had looked at him with a professional eye back then. He didn’t allow himself to let his thoughts wander when performing a medical treatment on a patient. In the hospital, when removing the stitches, he hadn’t noticed any blood, a few drops didn’t alert him when he was working (he usually didn’t breathe in at all, when working). Now, Jonathan noticed it and he somehow couldn’t control his face as well as he normally could. He couldn’t stop his mouth from slightly opening, showing his white and very deadly set of teeth. His nostrils flared on their own account and of course McCullum noticed his moment of weakness.

“You almost fooled me, leech. Almost thought you weren’t like the rest of your kind. But you all stop your charades when you smell blood.”

Jonathan was in full control of his urges, and of his limbs. He wouldn’t just attack the other man because his blood spoke to him. However, McCullum’s false accusations still enraged him. 

McCullum reached for his scarf and pulled it from his neck where Jonathan detected the source of the sweet scent. As it seemed, one of the Skals had managed to graze McCullum’s skin and left a light scratch wound. It wasn’t deep and just so evaded the carotid artery, but even without the essential blood vessel, a noticeable amount of blood had oozed out of McCullum’s neck. Some of it was on his hand, too, after McCullum had tossed his scarf away. 

Jonathan was stronger than that, but this felt strange. Different than when he smelled another person’s blood. He knew he shouldn’t be thirsty; he had had enough blood that night already. The doctor didn’t like not understanding what was going on, but his cluelessness didn’t seem to subside since he had been turned. 

“Go on, give into it. I know you want to. I can’t escape you here anyway. I know you want it. Unleash the beast.” McCullum’s voice was barely more than a dark growl. 

When in this state of heightened senses, Jonathan could perceive everything much clearer than usual. In this predatory mode, the vampire noticed the hunter’s hand reaching for a hidden knife at his side before he could make the move and Jonathan quickly appeared in front of him out of what looked like a cloud of black smoke. Jonathan pushed the slightly taller man into the wall behind him, still not losing control of himself but wanting to make a point. 

“I am not the monstrosity you make me out to be, McCullum.”

The hunter grunted as the air was pressed out of his lungs from the impact. “And yet you force me against a wall.”

“I’m stronger than my thirst.”

McCullum growled deep in his chest and tried to press against Jonathan, but it was to no avail. Even though the vampire was slimmer, he was a lot stronger than the other man thanks to his enhanced abilities. He had no trouble pushing McCullum into the wall and keeping him there with his inhuman strength. 

“I can see how much you want to rip my throat out”, McCullum hissed through his teeth. “Give into it!” 

Jonathan snarled at him, pushing into him harder again. He couldn’t understand why McCullum turned on him like this. First, they started to slowly get along, became friendly around each other and then all of a sudden, they were back at barking at each other. And all of that for what? Jonathan really had no clue as to what he could have done to evoke this backdrop. It was McCullum who had kissed him in the hospital.

It was hard to tell who was more surprised by Jonathan’s following action, but it was enough to make both stop clawing aggressively at each other for at least a moment when Jonathan leaned forward to kiss the other man just as he had done before in the hospital.

Jonathan noticed it took McCullum by surprise – which has been the case some days back, only reversed. Both didn’t close their eyes and looked at each other as their lips pressed together intimately, or rather past each other. Jonathan was the first to close his eyes and he couldn’t help but smirk when he felt McCullum doing the same, not pulling away but not reciprocating either. 

Feeling the warm and rough lips on his, Jonathan remembered that he hadn’t kissed anyone since becoming a vampire. There is some experience from before from which he can draw on for a comparison and it wasn’t much different than kissing someone else when he was human. The main difference was that Jonathan could feel a lot more from the other man as just his lips on his and his hands on his arms, still holding him in place. He felt his heartbeat on his lips and could hear his blood pumping through his veins. Intimately, he could feel McCullum’s breath on his cheek. He could only begin to think of how easy they had adjusted their faces, angling them to side so that their noses wouldn’t get in the way, when McCullum finally pulled away, but only to inhale and then press forward against Jonathan again. 

Jonathan only breathed in for the fraction of a second – he hadn’t while kissing – and took in the scent of McCullum’s blood again. Much closer this time, more intimately, and a lot more intoxicating than before. There were too many other thoughts in his head to try to make any reason of this, all he could know now was that his body ached for the blood of this man. But he was strong enough to resist the song in his mind, lulling him in to finally take a life. 

Jonathan growled as he pressed against McCullum harder again, opening his lips, licking along the other man’s lower lip. And McCullum didn’t seem to object. There was no relaxation in his body as far as Jonathan could tell, but he didn’t expect that from such a strong-willed man. It didn’t matter that Jonathan was stronger in every aspect, McCullum would not just yield to him that easily.

Letting go of his hands, McCullum finally had some more room for manoeuvre and laid one of his hands on Jonathan’s hip – on top of his open coat – and one on his shoulder, close to his neck. Jonathan mimicked McCullum’s position, but instead of his shoulder, Jonathan had one hand on the other man’s throat. If for dominance or just to have a better grip on McCullum, Jonathan didn’t know. But it certainly helped the vampire to turn McCullum’s head the way he wanted to, and he grumbled in delight when the hunter finally let him deepen the kiss. 

Even though McCullum had fled the last time they had kissed – or the last time when McCullum had kissed the doctor – there was no sign of any discomfort in the hunter now. The way he opened his mouth for Jonathan, let him in and even tasted the vampire himself, it rather seemed he had been waiting for this. And all the while McCullum’s scent, the scent of his blood, was singing to Jonathan, pressing him to sink his teeth in the other man’s neck. It was too deliciously easy. The vampire could feel how distracted the man was, but Jonathan resisted the temptations. He wouldn’t let McCullum have the satisfaction of being right about Jonathan’s thirst. 

Instead, Jonathan used his strength to push one of his legs in between McCullum’s. Jonathan wasn’t erect yet, but he felt the need to rub against something, anything, and the next best thing without using his own hands was McCullum’s leg. 

He felt McCullum’s breath hitch when he did that, and Jonathan opened his eyes to look at the man – had he gone too far? Was the lack of objection due to the simple needs of a man over now? Had he snapped out of it and would push Jonathan away? But that was far from the case, McCullum hit his head backwards on the wooden wall and groaned and – oh, Jonathan felt how he lifted his hips against him, rubbed back. This was such a different picture to the belligerent man before him only minutes ago. It seemed as if the closeness, the heat between them had eased McCullum somehow and brought out what he might have wanted to do the first time they kissed. But Jonathan had no idea what was going on in the other man’s mind, that was one skill his new state didn’t give him, much to his chagrin. 

That meant he had to find out how far this, whatever this between them was, let Jonathan go. He grunted against McCullum’s cheek and grabbed his hips, trying to get some more friction for both of them because it wouldn’t do if McCullum lifted himself away from Jonathan’s crotch while trying to find his own pleasure. 

They didn’t say anything, and nothing had to be said. Jonathan knew what this was – or thought he knew. He had witnessed this often enough in France, men who felt lonely and needed some closeness with someone, and the only available person had been another comrade. It was seldomly more than just that, a quick relief, but then again Oswald and Newton hadn’t been the first couple Jonathan had known. 

He couldn’t think about something as complicated at that now, however. McCullum’s supressed grunts brought him back to the present, in which he was trying to rub through his trousers against McCullum’s strong thigh. 

“Fuck, Reid!” Ah, so the vampire hunter still knew who he was doing this with. And still, he didn’t push Jonathan away – at least not very vigorously. And Jonathan wanted to show him that he wasn’t the leech he made him out to be. He wouldn’t take any of his blood – even if it was so close and so alluring. 

Jonathan growled and pressed his face into McCullum’s neck, the side that wasn’t bloody and he felt McCullum stiffen against him, probably thinking that now the vampire would make his move. But all he let the hunter feel was his mouth against his skin – no teeth, only tongue mixing in. Jonathan chuckled darkly against the warm and pulsing skin, under which the scent was intoxicating for him. 

McCullum snarled and tried to shove at Jonathan for this faux scare, but it only pushed Jonathan. There was no sign that McCullum didn’t want this to go on, his hips hadn’t really stilled, and he had stayed pressed up snugly against Jonathan even through the moment he thought Jonathan would bite him. It turned McCullum on as far as Jonathan could say, and breathing in the hunter’s scent, Jonathan recognised a strong smell of erection pouring out from McCullum’s every pore. It was very different from the pure scent of his blood, but just as intoxicating. 

One of Jonathan’s hands made its way to the front of McCullum’s pants. They were adult men, and it was obvious what both wanted and needed, and even though Jonathan was usually a patient man, he couldn’t draw this out any longer. And he was afraid it would get awkward once they get too comfortable in one position.

McCullum’s gasp and his pushing forward were enough proof that Jonathan was going in the right direction for him, too, so he wasted no time and palmed him through the thick cotton pants. If Jonathan had to guess he would say that McCullum was already half hard, which was remarkable with this little amount of touch. The hunter liked to be a little dominated, Jonathan recognised smilingly. 

They kissed again, a lot more messily this time, as Jonathan brought both of his hands to McCullum’s crotch and hastily opened the front of his pants. McCullum moaned into his mouth as Jonathan pushed down his underwear as far as possible to grab his erection. “Oh fuck …”

Jonathan smirked against his lips as he slowly but steadily started to pump him. McCullum didn’t let him do this for long as much as he seemed to enjoy it and reached down himself between them. Jonathan’s hips stuttered forward as the other man very unceremoniously and roughly pressed against his crotch. He had been so focused on McCullum that he hadn’t noticed how much this had affected him already. He didn’t feel ashamed to lean into the touch, to enjoy McCullum’s hand on him, as he hadn’t felt ashamed in the war. 

McCullum pulled him out of his pants as unceremoniously as he had done moments before and only then could Jonathan get his own grip on the hunter back again. The pent-up tension between them was too intense to kiss now, they more or less breathed each other’s air in as they stroked the other. Jonathan tried to press his lips against McCullum’s neck and kiss him there again, but he was too occupied to concentrate on that, so he settled on pressing his face into where McCullum’s scent was the strongest. 

McCullum grunted and shoved Jonathan’s hand away from his cock, taking himself in his hand that wasn’t much larger than Jonathan’s, but the doctor didn’t disapprove when he noticed that McCullum wanted to bring their cocks together, to pump them in unison. He choked out a groan, giving up his control at last. 

And again Jonathan noticed that he had been far more gone already than he thought, only half hard when McCullum had taken him out of his pants but definitely fully erect now, pressing against the other’s cock and feeling his warm and big hand around him. It was good, this fast and intense lust, but not enough, so Jonathan reached around them too to help McCullum. Their legs were still entangled and their upper bodies almost pressed together – just so that they could rub themselves off. McCullum’s scent in his nostrils, the scent of his drying blood, it soon became too much for Jonathan. He hadn’t been so close with another being since coming to London, since becoming a vampire. He didn’t know how his orgasm approached differently than when he was human and it shocked him so much when it happened that he bit down on the other man’s skin underneath his mouth without realising it. 

And that, after all, was all it took for the vampire hunter. He grunted brokenly and Jonathan felt an arm around his hip when McCullum thrusted forward, surely ruining both of their clothes, but Jonathan couldn’t care less in that moment. He did care, however, when he noticed what he had done in the heat of the moment. Shocked, he leaned back to assess the damage when McCullum was still coming down from his orgasm. Thankfully, his fangs hadn’t come out and he hadn’t breached the hunter’s skin, but he had bitten down quite forcefully, and his sharp eyes could already see a bruise forming. It seemed that McCullum hadn’t noticed but he would surely the next time he looked into a mirror.

There wasn’t much closeness afterwards. How could there, they were just two men working out their sexual needs, which wasn’t that uncommon as Jonathan had learned in the war. There usually was no need to talk through it, but Jonathan had come to McCullum to talk in the first place and instead of getting answers to his questions, he had only added more. 

Closing his coat in hopes of covering most of the mess after tucking himself back in and trying to wipe away both of their excesses with a handkerchief, he stepped away a few feet, trying to get some distance again. But he saw there was no way they would get the needed distance back now after their messy handjobs. He couldn’t ask McCullum any question now as he looked at the rather sad picture of the vampire hunter, half undressed, his cock softening slowly as the man was getting his senses back, slower than the vampire obviously. 

There was nothing Jonathan could say now to ease the situation. He looked at the scarf next to him on the ground, the blood all dried up already but still smelling as sweet and delicious as before to Jonathan. 

“McCullum! Where are you?”

* * *

Geoffrey could only catch a glimpse of the vampire before he vanished in a cloud of smoke and disappeared into the dark. He sighed and tucked himself back in. There were stains on his shirt and his pants – not all of them his own, as he noticed. He picked up his scarf. He had to clean it anyway, so he used it to clean the worst of it from his clothes. 

“McCullum!”

Geoffrey growled beyond annoyed. If these were the men that were left to take back the Guard after Carter’s betrayal, he really should stop to hope. “I’m up here you fool, and if you keep that shouting up, everyone else in this city will be, too!”

Geoffrey adjusted his clothing one last time and touched his neck. He had noticed that Reid had bitten down on his skin when he came in their hands, but true to his word, the vampire hadn’t sucked his blood. As much as Geoffrey hated to admit it, it didn’t really surprise him, as much as he had hoped to prove the man wrong. That he was, after all, just a blood sucker as all of the other leeches. But, of course, he wouldn’t do the hunter the favour. 

Geoffrey put the scarf in one of his pockets and tried to hide his neck with his shirt as one of his men entered the house. 

“Boss, how did you get up there? I thought we wanted to meet up around the corner, on the street.”

The lad seemed utterly confused as he looked up and gestured wildly at the broken staircase. Geoffrey crouched down and jumped to the ground floor. “Thought I’d heard something. Where’s Pearson?”

“Outside, Boss.”

“Good, and keep it down from now on.” 

Geoffrey went ahead and tried to shake off the sour feeling the meeting with the doctor had left in him. He felt strange, but he had to ignore that now. There was still a long night ahead of him and he had to stay focused if he wanted to get his Guard back.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you have any comments, suggestions, questions, anything, please drop by and leave a comment. Other than good ol' Jonny, I don't bite.


End file.
